Saturday, July 01, 2006
Did I just sell my mom's car to the Mob?
The car has been advertised on craigslist for $700. A Maurice calls today, declares that he just got to LA from New York and needs a car fast, but he can't do $700. Offers 5; I say no. Offers 6 in cash tonight; I say yes.
I scramble around for a couple hours figuring out what paperwork I'm obligated to subject him and myself to, and realize I can't sell my mom's car without having her signature on the papers. She's not around. When the buyer calls back (private number) I explain to him that we can proceed with the transaction tonight, but if so he'll have to wait for the papers in the mail. He sounds uncomfortable, and says "Truthfully, I'm buying it for a friend of mine. I'll have to call you back about that."
Three minutes later he calls back. "The guy I'm buying it for is my brother-in-law; he's in the car with me. [Did I ASK for an explanation?] He seems to be willing to go ahead with whatever's needed to make the deal go through."
They should be pulling up any minute. Earlier I was worrying about getting counterfeited. Now I'm thinking that not getting whacked would be par for the course, so I will not insist on driving somewhere to get a money order.
Besides, if it's counterfeit I'll get to rat them out to the Secret Service.
Wait. They know where my mom lives. I guess I can't talk.
[Later]
When they show up they're four guys (I was expecting two) in their late twenties, all Italian. They claim to be "theater hands", but they're not fairy goofballs like the theater hands I've known. They tend to punch one another as they talk. I'm paid in old, wrinkled hundred dollar bills.
[The next day]
The bills were real!
I scramble around for a couple hours figuring out what paperwork I'm obligated to subject him and myself to, and realize I can't sell my mom's car without having her signature on the papers. She's not around. When the buyer calls back (private number) I explain to him that we can proceed with the transaction tonight, but if so he'll have to wait for the papers in the mail. He sounds uncomfortable, and says "Truthfully, I'm buying it for a friend of mine. I'll have to call you back about that."
Three minutes later he calls back. "The guy I'm buying it for is my brother-in-law; he's in the car with me. [Did I ASK for an explanation?] He seems to be willing to go ahead with whatever's needed to make the deal go through."
They should be pulling up any minute. Earlier I was worrying about getting counterfeited. Now I'm thinking that not getting whacked would be par for the course, so I will not insist on driving somewhere to get a money order.
Besides, if it's counterfeit I'll get to rat them out to the Secret Service.
Wait. They know where my mom lives. I guess I can't talk.
[Later]
When they show up they're four guys (I was expecting two) in their late twenties, all Italian. They claim to be "theater hands", but they're not fairy goofballs like the theater hands I've known. They tend to punch one another as they talk. I'm paid in old, wrinkled hundred dollar bills.
[The next day]
The bills were real!
# posted by Jeff Brown @ 7:04 PM 
